


Butterfly Effect

by a_quick_drink



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: 1940s, Butterflies, Canon Era, First Kiss, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 01:24:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: If a butterfly in the South Pacific flaps its wings, can it change someone's future?





	Butterfly Effect

"Got a minute?" Larkin called out to Corrigan.

He ignored the wary looks of the battle-weary men who'd snapped to attention as soon as they spotted him. He imagined them squirming for a chance to escape, yet not wanting to draw attention themselves; he took no pleasure in their discomfort. Though he'd succeeded in keeping a professional distance from the enlisted men, he'd done so far too well and it only made him feel lonelier.

Glancing up at him, Corrigan flashed Larkin a smile that distracted him from the discomfort of dozens of pairs of unfriendly eyes on him. It also made his heart skip a beat, something he'd noticed happening more frequently in Corrigan's company and had yet to dare analyze too closely.

Corrigan patted the knee of the marine he'd been talking to, then excused himself. "Sure, what's up?"

Larkin suddenly forgot what he wanted to say. Corrigan's sunny expression didn't falter, which only made it more difficult for Larkin to get the words out. Why did he always get tongue-tied when talking to Corrigan? They were just friends.

 _Just_.

He quickly forced the thought to the back of his mind and turned away so he wasn't as distracted. "I, uh, wanted to show you something," Larkin said as he stepped over the broken trunk of a palm tree.

As they ventured deeper into the jungle, Larkin started second guessing himself. This was a silly idea. There'd be no end to the ribbing over it. Which was a completely ridiculous thought because Corrigan wasn't like that. He was a hardass when he needed to be but was otherwise fair and understanding. It was why the men liked him so much--why Larkin liked him. And why did it matter what Corrigan thought of him anyway? He didn't care what anyone thought of him, yet a simple nod of approval from his friend was all it took to brighten an otherwise miserable day.

He stopped just before the clearing and motioned for Corrigan to stay quiet as they crouched behind a mass of foliage. Corrigan shot him a questioning look. "There," Larkin whispered, pointing at the clearing where vibrant splotches of blue fluttered lazily among the unending green.

Corrigan's eyes widened. "Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. "Didn't think there was much else on this island. Figured we ran off everything by now." Resting his chin on his arms, another smile curved his lips as he watched the field of butterflies, oblivious to Larkin's gaze.

Larkin hummed in agreement, but it wasn't the butterflies that had his attention. All he could think about was how the slivers of sunlight created golden strands throughout Corrigan's mop of hair; how much he wanted to touch those auburn curls and see if they were as soft as they looked despite being caked in dirt, sweat, and salt water like the rest of them.

The idea would've shaken him more had he not already thought about it several times before, each time tucking away the thought deep into his brain where he hoped he'd eventually forget about it. Never happened. Instead he'd wound up with a mental catalog of everything he wanted to try with another man, things he knew he should be ashamed of--things he feared Corrigan would be repulsed by if he knew. Most worrisome, though, was the gut punch of the truth he'd been denying for months: it wasn't just any man he wanted--it was Corrigan.

Corrigan could never know. Corrigan would leave and the resulting isolation would be like prison, the mere thought of which more terrifying than anything this damned war could throw at him. He couldn't lose Corrigan. He didn't know how to make it through this without him.

Larkin tore his gaze away. Why did he have to be like this at all? Why did he have to want someone he could never have? It wasn't right. _He_ wasn't right, but no amount of self-loathing, denial, or wishing would change who he was--he'd tried. He was who he was, even if that meant he'd be a bachelor for life.

Rummaging in his pocket for the small orange he'd brought with, Larkin focused on cutting it in half so as not to cut himself in the process. The last thing he needed on this tour through hell was an infected wound caused by his own stupidity.

Larkin lifted one half to his mouth to catch the precious drops of juice and handed the other to Corrigan.

"What's this for?"

"Attracts the butterflies." Larkin didn't dare watch Corrigan mirror his gesture. He didn't need a visual image to attach to the thought of just how sweet those lips would taste painted in juice.

"They'll come clear over here for it?"

Larkin shrugged. "They have before, so I don't see why not. I mean, unless they don't like you," he teased with a wave of his hand, trying to distract himself. "No, how could anyone not like a guy like you?"

It was difficult to tell there in the shade, but he swore Corrigan blushed, which didn't help matters. The dejected look in his eyes, though, sobered Larkin quick. Silence lapsed between them. Not their usual comfortable silence of shared company, but an awkward one that felt foreign to Larkin. What had he said wrong?

When Corrigan finally broke the silence, his voice sounded distant and so unlike him. "Never told you I got a letter from home the other day," he said thickly, eyes locked on the orange half he'd set on the log. "Annie said she found someone else."

Though his words were measured and emotionless, Larkin knew it was a front to mask hurt he couldn't even begin to fathom. He'd never loved anyone like Corrigan did her. How he could spend hours talking about her and still have plenty more to say. The other guys gave him a hard time about it, but he just called them jealous and kept on smiling. Guy like him would have no problem finding another woman, someone to settle down and start a family with whenever he made it back home; someone who'd make Corrigan forget all about him...

"Hugh, I--"

"It's fine," Corrigan said quickly. "The way they've been talking about this getting drug out til who knows when? Can't say I blame her. Why waste your life waiting for someone who might not even come back, you know?"

Unsure how to respond, Larkin kept quiet. He wished he could think of something to say or do to make Corrigan feel better, but all that came to mind were empty platitudes he likely didn't want to hear.

"So is this where you've been disappearing to?" Corrigan asked, steering the conversation away from himself.

"You noticed?"

"Hard not to. The boys have been taking bets on what nefarious things you're up to."

"Anyone ever follow?"

"No, they're all talk. Too afraid they'd get caught and end up in your secret torture den."

Larkin lifted an eyebrow. "Let me guess, Leckie?"

Corrigan's lips twisted into a lopsided smile as he nodded. "Big money on that one."

"Sounds like he's overdue for cleanup detail," Larkin grumbled. Picking up rotten coconuts and dead land crabs baking in the tropical heat would only further antagonize Leckie, but that was the point.

Corrigan huffed a laugh. "You are such an asshole sometimes."

"You'll get a reputation hanging around with me."

"I'll take my chances." Corrigan caught Larkin's gaze and held it. "It's been worth it so far."

It was Larkin's turn to get flustered. He kept people at arm's distance to protect himself from what he long ago , but Corrigan had seen right through his act and inserted himself into Larkin's life like he belonged there. Despite his initial fear that Corrigan had an ulterior motive, he'd proven Larkin wrong and they'd been friends since.

But that look. It made Larkin dizzy and breathless and sick to his stomach. _Stop it_ , he chided himself. _Corrigan isn't-- He wouldn't-- Definitely not with you._

A butterfly chose that moment to land on Corrigan's orange half, drawing his attention away from Larkin and the panic he hopefully couldn't read in Larkin's eyes.

Iridescent blue wings shimmered in the light, edges black as though they'd been dipped in ink with two droplets sliding off to form little tails. Sitting atop the brightly colored fruit it made a striking contrast of colors that was almost blinding after how much green and brown they stared at on a daily basis. Seeing them pulled Larkin from his grim reality, if only for a moment, and he found himself visiting this spot more frequently as the days wore on.

Paying them no mind, the butterfly drank its fill of orange nectar. Larkin carefully gripped the fruit between his fingers and set it in Corrigan's hands, smiling as he watched his friend's expression morph into wonder. So he had been right thinking Corrigan would enjoy this. After that look Corrigan had given him, could he also be right thinking there might be something more between them?

The delicate little creature took wing--and landed in Corrigan's hair. He started to tip his head back to look for it, but Larkin grabbed his arm to still him. "It's in your hair."

Watching the butterfly pick its way through the tangle of Corrigan's hair, Larkin chuckled, mostly at himself for being envious that a butterfly was getting to do what he wanted.

"You know," Corrigan said slowly, "I once read somewhere that blue butterflies are supposed to be lucky. That they'll grant wishes."

"Now's the time to see if that's true."

Corrigan closed his eyes. His brows scrunched together.

"Did it work?" Larkin asked when Corrigan opened his eyes a moment later.

Shaking his head, Corrigan answered, "Nope. You're still over there."

Blood thundered in Larkin's ears. "What do you mean?" The words felt like they were stuck in his throat and came out sounding more like a croak.

Corrigan glanced over his shoulder and chewed at his lower lip. "I wished..." He shook his head and Larkin gave his arm a squeeze. "I wished you would kiss me," Corrigan whispered, shrinking away like he expected to be hit for admitting something scandalous.

Releasing his arm, Larkin scooted closer and hesitantly pressed a kiss to the corner of Corrigan's mouth. He half expected nothing more to come of it, for Corrigan to change his mind and push him away. At least then he would know where they stood.

When Corrigan instead turned his head and their lips slid together, Larkin wanted to melt. This had to be a dream. There was no way Corrigan was returning his kisses with deep, fervent, citrus-flavored ones of his own. Larkin cupped Corrigan's stubbled cheek in his palm. So very real.

Corrigan broke off the kiss, panting, kiss-swollen lips curved into a contented smile. If not for needing to catch his breath Larkin would've dove in for more. He followed Corrigan's gaze to his shoulder where another butterfly was perched, wings pulsing slowly as it watched them.

"Guess they do grant wishes after all."

Pressing his nose and mouth to Corrigan's cheek, Larkin smiled. "Yours and mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please take a moment to leave a kudos and/or comment. The support is greatly appreciated. :)


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